Dear Family and Friends,

Over the years each of you has shared a meaningful moment or an extended time with me. And I have loved occupying our world with you. Now it’s time to share some difficult news.

Many of you know that I have been living with cancer for well over nine years. I’ve had more time than statistics predicted. During those years we have created memories together, enjoyed some laughter, exchanged hugs that still hold our love for one another, and we have caught each other’s tears. My hair has fallen out and grown back three times. And while Scleroderma has changed my appearance, I’m still the same Dixie you have known. We made our time together matter, and I will carry the warmth of our friendships through my last moments on this earth.

It is clear that those last moments will arrive soon. And now I have a request. when I’m gone I don’t want anyone saying that I “lost the battle with cancer.” Oh no! Cancer is the vehicle luck would have me ride in as I exit this life. Be it a short, flashy ride or a longer journey, there has to be some form of transportation for each of us. And fate sent cancer as mine. If you are tempted to judge whether I win or cancer wins, let me say this: I have won this battle almost every day. I will not let cancer have my spirit. To me winning means facing each challenge in my own way, striving for peace and purpose. I only ask for your blessing as I go.

This will likely be my final post and my last toast, which I raise with gratitude to each of you and to a most fabulous life with Bert van de Flier, the remarkable, loving man whom I was lucky enough to marry.

I don’t think the dying have any more wisdom than the living, so I leave no advice behind. Only gratitude.

As always, hugs and love from here.

Dixie